Rituals
by amandanana
Summary: Some nights Hermione delighted in being a part of the ritual... Tonight though, Hermione is content to just sit and watch. MM/HG Non-explicit femslash - AU - Small reference to OotP


**AN: Thank you to** **ButterflyRainbow and tigertales****, who through their Cat & Kitten universe, unknowingly planted the idea into my head that Minerva was a very fit woman who took great care of her body. Please note that this is NOT a part of that universe. It is AU, however.**

**The idea for this little ficlet popped into my head one evening as I was going for a run (more of a walk/jog really) and it slowly developed in my head over the next week or so. I haven't written anything in quite some time, so I was both surprised and pleased that I was able to turn the images in my head into something that I could put into words and share with everyone.**

At the sound of the portrait in the living room opening and closing, Hermione looked up from the book she was reading. Glancing at the clock, she smiled; 11:15. She could not see into the living room from her vantage point in bed, but she did not need to. The soft clanking sounds of Minerva's free weights only confirmed what Hermione already knew. Minerva was back from her run and had moved into strength training. Every night, Minerva did her rounds of the castle, students present or not, to check that everything was warded and secure, followed by a run around the Black Lake, and then back to her…now their…living quarters for a bit of strength training.

Hermione was shocked the first time she encountered Minerva's fitness routine. It was almost exactly four years ago, come to think of it, Hermione's first night back at Hogwarts. She had been anxious, nervous, and terribly excited about the start of the term and her first teaching position. Deciding a walk around the castle and grounds would help calm her nerves and reacquaint her with her former home of seven years, Hermione had wandered out to the Quidditch pitch, and then set off to walk once around the lake. It was there that she first saw Minerva striding gracefully along the path worn deep into the banks of the lake.

Hermione stopped, staring as Minerva rounded the western bank of the lake, coming more clearly in to view. She remembered precisely the moment that Minerva sensed that she was being watched and looked up to catch the young woman staring, mouth agape. Minerva's lips turned up in an impish smile and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. The butterflies that had formed in Hermione's stomach were enough to kick-start her senses, giving her the presence of mind to close her mouth. She was, however, unable to control the blush that crept up her face from being caught staring in shock at the headmistress.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?" McGonagall inquired.

Hermione fell in to step next to Minerva, who had slowed down to a brisk walk. The two women made their way along the path to the spot where Minerva had laid her things. "I'm sorry, Professor. It was just a little…" Hermione paused for a moment trying to think of a suitable word. "Disconcerting to see you out here. I wasn't expecting to see…"

Before she could finish, Minerva interrupted, "to see your Ex-Transfiguration Professor parading herself around the lake sweating to death?" While Minerva's face gave away nothing, the levity in her voice helped to ease some of Hermione's initial embarrassment.

"Well, yes, there is _that_. However, what I was _going _to say was that I wasn't expecting to see _anyone _out here so late. You are right, however. If I were to have imagined that I'd have company out here tonight, you running around the lake would not have crossed my mind. Not that I mind of course. It's always a pleasure to see you." Embarrassed once more, Hermione started rambling. "It's just that I wasn't expecting…and then there you were…and it was disconcerting…"

"So you said, Hermione." Mercifully, Minerva cut her rambling off and changed the subject. "Speaking of disconcerting and company, I don't advise any early morning jaunts around, or even near, the lake."

"Why, Professor?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued.

"First, it's Minerva. You really must get comfortable with thinking of us as colleagues."

"Thank you, Minerva." Hermione purposely used her name, trying to make it become comfortable. "You are right, of course. It's very difficult for me to make that adjustment. However, if I am to control a classroom, I must get comfortable with seeing myself as a teacher, and not a student." Minerva nodded her agreement and took a drink from her canteen. Hermione used this time to get a good look at her colleague. Minerva hadn't aged a bit in the time that she'd been gone from Hogwarts. They'd usually run in to each other a few times a year, but it was typically someplace crowded, giving them little chance to spend any time together. It was obvious that Minerva was taking excellent care of herself. Hermione was glad. She could still vividly remember the fight between Minerva, Delores Umbridge, and Umbridge's pack of goons the night of her Astronomy OWL that had landed Minerva in St. Mungo's for a stay longer than either Minerva OR her team of healers preferred. She'd never really thought about it before, but it dawned on Hermione that to survive four direct stunners, especially at Minerva's age, she must have been at least fairly fit at the time. Feeling her cheeks start to burn once more as she realized she was admiring just a little too much how fit Minerva was, she cleared her throat. "You were saying, Minerva, something about the lake being disconcerting in the early morning?"

"Yes. Well, no. Not the lake, exactly." There was a pause while Minerva thought of the most delicate way to phrase her next words. "There really isn't a 'good' way to put this. Severus likes to take very early morning runs, far earlier than any student would dare be out of bed. He also has a fondness for what I believe Muggles call a Speedo." Hermione visibly shuddered. "Quite right, Hermione. You can thank Albus for that one, by the way. Apparently, he gave Severus one as a present a number of years ago. Merlin only knows why." Minerva rolled her eyes and sighed. "I happened to be delayed one evening last term with a student in the Hospital Wing and missed my nightly run. I foolishly thought that it would be a good idea to make it up the next morning. You can imagine the rest for yourself." Hermione and Minerva simultaneously cringed. "I haven't missed my night time run since." And with that, Minerva turned and headed up the hill towards the castle, leaving a very squicked Hermione by the shore.

It had been four years and Hermione had yet to rid her mind of the image of Severus Snape in a Speedo. She really despised Dumbledore at times. Thankfully, it was at that moment that Minerva appeared in the bedroom doorway, providing a much nicer view for her brain to ponder, for Minerva was stripping out of her workout clothes, leaving a trail of clothing from the living room to the bathroom. As Minerva peeled out of her black compression shirt, a gift from Hermione the first Christmas they were together, and the last of the clothes she was currently wearing, she gave Hermione a nod and a smile, and then proceeded into the bathroom to take a shower.

Hermione heard the shower door open with a click and the water turn on, shortly followed by a loud groan of pleasure. There was little that pleased Minerva more than a scalding hot shower, especially after a workout. Hermione had it on good authority that she was on that short list, however.

Before Hermione could ponder too deeply upon the many and various ways she had made that short list, she heard the water shut off and the click of the shower door once more. Despite the obvious enjoyment Minerva received from her showers, she never dallied during her evening shower. The same could not be said about her morning shower. Hermione questioned Minerva about this once. "As good as a shower is, my Dear, and let there be no mistake, a hot shower is quite lovely, having you waiting in my bed waiting is bloody fantastic!" Hermione wasted no time that night in showing Minerva just how bloody fantastic she could be.

Minerva emerged from the bathroom clad in an off-white silky nightgown and matching robe. No matter how many times over the last couple of years she saw Minerva dressing for bed, Hermione could not get over how sensual and feminine Minerva truly was. She had always thought of Minerva as wearing a flannel tartan night and dressing gown, primly buttoned up to the neck. She was delighted to learn that it was Professor McGonagall that wore such things. Her Minerva, the Minerva free of the responsibilities of her young charges, wore beautiful, sensual negligees, something Hermione appreciated immensely, especially when watching Minerva bend over to pick up the trail of clothing discarded on the way to the shower. One of Minerva's better physical qualities was her firm and well-toned arse. Said arse looked spectacular when Minerva bent over, silky fabric draping over her shapely curves. She knew Minerva was aware of her ogling. There was no denying it; Minerva purposely bent over to pick up each piece of clothing, angling herself just so and giving a little wiggle of her hips as she did it. The display did not go under appreciated. Hermione discarded her book on the night table and sat up a bit, hoping for a better view.

The clothes now picked up and put in the basket for the House Elves, Minerva moved to her vanity, slipped out of her robe and sat down. One by one, the pins holding her bun in place were removed, each one going back into the porcelain box that it had come from that morning. The last pin out, Minerva's long ebony hair cascaded down her back in waves. She brushed it out and put it into a braid. Hermione watched every stroke of the brush and every twist of Minerva's long, talented fingers. As much as she enjoyed watching Minerva's fingers at work, it was the next task in Minerva's ritual that Hermione anticipated the most. Minerva opened a jar of lotion and began to apply it to her exposed flesh.

Some nights Hermione delighted in being a part of the ritual: letting Minerva's hair down, running her fingers through it, braiding it. Other nights, she helped Minerva apply the lotion to her body. Often, those _other nights_ lead to _other things_. Tonight though, Hermione was content to just sit and watch.

It was nights like this one, when Minerva was free to be completely herself, that Hermione truly appreciated how complex a woman Minerva McGonagall really was. Two hours ago, Minerva was the fastidious headmistress patrolling the hallways of Hogwarts. One hour ago, she was the dedicated athlete running swiftly around the lake. Now she sits in front of her vanity, the epitome of grace, elegance, and femininity in her silk negligee. Hermione never failed to be amazed, and quite frankly awed, by how seamlessly Minerva could transition from one roll to the next.

Hermione caught Minerva's eye in the vanity mirror and pointedly looked in the direction of the vacant spot next to her in bed. Always quick to catch on, Minerva replaced the cap on the jar of lotion, and headed over to their bed. After she settled herself under the covers, Minerva extinguished the lights, put her wand and glasses on her night table, and pulled Hermione in to her arms. Placing a kiss on Hermione's hair, she whispered, "Good night, my Dear."

Hermione snuggled in closer. "Goodnight."


End file.
